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Excuse Me, I Have the Hiccups
Description: '''Excuse Me, I Have the Hiccups is a crossover between the book and movie universes of How to Train Your Dragon. It is set after the twelfth book and after the second movie. '''Warnings: '''This story will include extreme spoilers and it is recommended you read all of the books and watch at least to the second movie. You will really miss out if you don't. There also may or may not be graphic violence, but this story is a bit more on the humor side of things. '''The characters and setting belong to Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks. The writing and storyline belong to me (though there will be some guest writers later). Do not post this on other sites or claim it as your own. Any criticism is appreciated. I try to keep the characters as in-character as possible, so if anything seems off, please tell me. Note this is my first fanfiction, so if anyone has advice on the formatting or story itself, don't be afraid to give it to me. Notes: '''Dragoneese will be in '''Bold. Thoughts and written words will be in Italics. Written words spoken aloud will be in both "quotation marks and italics." Perspective changes will be marked with this symbol: [][][]. Prologue: A Strange Echo Once there was a world. A world of Vikings, of dragons. A world of struggle. From that world, a Hero formed. A mistake, a hiccup that was never meant to be, yet made the world a better place than it would have ever been otherwise. From that universe came a divergence. A strange echo of a few familiar names, but not much else. But that world grew and grew, and the other seemed to shrink in its shadow. Forgotten, perhaps, by the force that had for so long, took care of it. Something was happening, though. A storm was brewing. Things began to disappear from that original place, at different times, in different places. And those things traveled across time and space, crossed over, if you will, and inserted themselves in the fabric of that second world. And that is where this story begins. Chapter 1: The Pressures of Power Hiccup was stressed, to say the least. He was the newly instituted chief, but still, he was never the best at managing the village. Sure, he was sharp when it came to battle tactics and could think on his feet, but he was never good at long-term things. Managing supplies, working out conflicts, and solving the problems of his new (although not very bright) citizens were definitely not his strong points. Of course, there was also the matter of his father’s death, which forced him into this position in the first place. All for a young man at the age of 20. Yes, stressed was most likely an understatement. Which is why he was on the far beach, away from the constant attention of the Berkians, away from the noise, away from the responsibility. At least for a while. Astrid was smart enough to handle them, anyway. Probably better than Hiccup himself. His large, dark dragon Toothless shuffled around the sand and sneezed. Hiccup looked over at him. “Careful, bud. You don’t want to get all of that up your nose,” he commented with a laugh. Toothless grunted in response and continued sniffing. Hiccup looked back out at the ocean. Behind him, the Night Fury seemed like he sensed something. His ear flaps went up, his deep green eyes filled with curiosity. He reared up on his hind legs and tilted his head at the scuffed sand in front of him. After examining it for a few seconds, the catlike dragon batted at the sand, his claws hitting something solid and leathery. Toothless shoved his head into the ground, grabbing the object in his mouth, and retracted his teeth as to not damage it. He brought it over to Hiccup, sitting behind him and casting a large shadow over his small master. Hiccup looked up at him and noticed the brownish foreign object in his dragon’s mouth. “What do you have there, Toothless?” Hiccup asked. Toothless replied with a rumbling sound. The dragon dropped the saliva-covered object in Hiccup’s hands and gave his face a generous lick. Hiccup laughed and dropped the gift to protect himself from the inevitable wrestling match with his friend, but Toothless just licked him on his arms again and sat down next to him. “Come on, Toothless. You know that this stuff takes forever to wash out,” he halfheartedly complained. Toothless looked at his rider with a self-satisfied grumble. He picked up the object that Toothless had deposited in his arms. It was a bit worse for wear. Past the dragon saliva and layer of sand that stuck to it, Hiccup recognized it as a book. Its leathery cover was covered in small scratches and the pages were a bit ripped around the edges. It smelled vaguely of smoke and had a few darkened stains of something that may have been ink… or blood. Hiccup opened the book carefully. Particles of sand and dust floated out, causing him to sneeze. The title page read How To Train Your Dragon… ...by Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. [][][] The newly appointed (and improperly named) “King Hiccup the Third” was in a confusing state of relief and fear. He was incredibly grateful that the rebellion was over, but he had also just received the position he had been dreading taking for the last two years. Of course, from childhood, he was never looking forward to the day he would have to become chief. It was unavoidable, being the only son of Stoick the Vast. But king? This was many times worse. For a 14-year-old boy, this was quite the responsibility. He had woke up early that morning, even though there had been partying late into the night after the end of the war. He was sitting on a small outcropping overlooking the beach with his faithful riding dragon, Windwalker. The black dragon still had some mothlike fuzz from his youth. Hiccup looked at the calm sea. Its salty tang mixed with the hot chocolate scent of his companion. The leftover smoke from the dragon-fire of the war still hung in the air, filtering the rising sun's light to give it a deep, bloodred hue. Blackened skeletons of the world he had once known were all that remained. But soon, the Vikings would rebuild. Today, they would all leave the Island of Tomorrow and repair their villages, repair their lives. They all were already imagining the glorious new structures they would create. As Hiccup sat and the sun crawled up above the horizon, he heard a loud crowing sound. Most would mistake it for a rooster, but Hiccup recognized the triumphant cry that came from his hunting dragon, Toothless. Once that little green dragon woke up, he assured that everyone else in the general area was awake as well. Fortunately, after the long night of feasting and singing, almost everyone was too exhausted to notice. Fishlegs had the absolute misfortune to be the one that Toothless had decided to sit on in the absence of Hiccup. The skinny, bespectacled kid yelled in surprise and fell over, causing Toothless to scream and flap off. One of the heads on Fishlegs's riding dragon, the Deadly Shadow lifted an eyelid, snorted, and closed it again. Horrorcow, his hunting dragon, predictably stayed sound asleep, snoring. Camicazi was one of the others to wake up. As soon as she heard the noise, she hopped up, drew her sword and a dagger and looked around eagerly, hoping for a good battle. When she realized nothing had decided to attack, she sighed in disappointment and sheathed her weapons. Regardless, the little warrior girl decided to stay awake and see what was going to happen today. Hopefully, with everyone focused on departing Tomorrow, she could… pick up a few more items off of the unsuspecting travelers. Toothless flew off to look for Hiccup. He found his master looking at the sunrise with Windwalker at his side. The minuscule dragon landed on his shoulder. Hiccup yelped in surprise. “Toothless!” he said in Dragonese. “Don’t do that! You scared me!” “S-s-sorry, Master,” Toothless replied. “I-I’m HUNGRY. G-g-go get me some F-FOOD-” He paused, thinking about the Wodensfang's advice on manners and added a small "P-p-please?". Hiccup gave his demanding dragon an annoyed look, undermined by the normally silent Windwalker snorting in amusement. “You probably had half of everything we had at last night's feast. You’ve got to stop eating so much, you won’t be able to fly at this rate.” Indeed, the little dragon’s body had swelled up to twice its usual size and he was a bit wobbly on his feet. Toothless gave a snort of annoyance, gave Hiccup a little nip on the ear and climbed down to sit on the ground a couple of feet away, back turned and arms crossed. He blew a few small angry smoke rings. Hiccup watched the small dragon for a few seconds, then went back to thinking. What was the world going to be like now? Could he really institute peace? What would he do if people didn’t want to follow him? Questions and worries swirled in his head. There was nothing he could do but try. And he had friends. He could do this. He hoped. Chapter 2: Discovery and Departure “Oh, my gods…” Hiccup breathed, staring at the wobbly letters spelling his own name. “What is this?” He closed the book to look at the cover once more. Seeing nothing but worn leather, he opened it again. He never remembered making a book like this, or any book that wasn't a series of scrawled notes and sketches in a hastily bound journal. Writing was Fishlegs' department. Toothless looked over his shoulder and a shocked expression spread across his face, rivaling Hiccup's own. Judging by the yellowed tone and the worn cover, the book was as old, if not older than the Book of Dragons. Its title was strange, since dragon-training was unheard of until Hiccup and Toothless had met. He couldn’t have possibly written this. Of course, it might have been any of his ancestors who shared his name (that, frankly, he knew close to nothing about), or it would have if the author wasn't clearly the THIRD, as the three marks at the end of his name proudly proclaimed. Briefly, Hiccup considered that someone had just written a book in his name, but dismissed it. No one but his family knew his middle name was Horrendous. Trying to put all of his questions out of his head, Hiccup turned the first page. The paper was surprisingly tough. Fibers jutted out at odd angles but the page was pretty much intact. It would be able to take quite a beating before ripping. There seemed to be a small author’s note. A messy sketch of a small, oddly skinny, freckled Viking boy was on the left page, labeled as “Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.” Words lined the other. “There were dragons when I was a boy,” Hiccup read aloud. “What?” He exclaimed to Toothless. “But there are dragons, still! Look how old this book is! This has to be fiction.” Confused but curious, he continued reading. The author who shared his name described dragons Hiccup had never heard of. Dragons as small as insects? Giant sea-dragons who kill for the fun of it? Dragons are just misunderstood creatures! None of them LIKE to kill, Hiccup thought indignantly, starting to dislike this other 'Hiccup the Third' for his portrayal of dragons. Nevertheless, he was rather good at writing, and Hiccup was hooked. The author described how the dragons were disappearing, leaving not a trace of their existence. “I will tell this true story from my childhood,” Hiccup read. “True? That can’t be.” I was not the sort of boy who could train a dragon with the mere lifting of an eyebrow. I was not a natural at the Heroism business. I had to work at it. This is the story of becoming a Hero the Hard Way. Hiccup was incredibly confused. The Vikings had been at war with dragons as long as anyone could tell. Even Gothi, the oldest person anyone around knew, had experienced the antagonistic relationship with the winged reptiles. Even as far as she could remember, it had always been that way. The book was old, yet it mentioned dragon-training as off-handedly as sheep-herding. And it seemed to be written by Hiccup himself, which was obviously not the case. Standing up, Hiccup decided it would be best to share this book with his friends, see what they thought of it. He closed the tome and hopped on Toothless, who flew off. The wind generated by his wings blew the sand in all directions. A small corner of what seemed to be a worn wooden box was revealed… but the two were already long gone. [][][] “Hiccup, you need to get Toothless under control,” Fishlegs complained. He looked rather tired, his glasses askew. “He was screaming in my ear this morning. Again,” “Yes, yes, I know. I’ve been trying to get him to stop crowing every time he wakes up. You would think he had gotten better after all of that time we spent in hiding, but as soon as his life isn’t in danger, he reverts back to… himself,” Hiccup answered. Toothless was off trying to impress Stormfly, but if he was there, he would have certainly been protesting loudly. Camicazi was watching the two dragons, but causing a bit more trouble than strictly necessary. She did simple things, like tripping up nearby people or blowing Toothless’s smoke rings back at him. The chaos it caused amused her. “Okay, yeah, I shouldn’t judge you. You’re way better than me at anything concerning dragons anyway. And I guess you’re our new King, so uh. That was probably improper,” Fishlegs said, fiddling with his father's eyepatch. “Oh, don’t call me that. I'll never get used to that,” Hiccup muttered. “Oh, how-ever are you going to deal with that? Being all privileged and royal, and... yeah, that's all I got,” Fishlegs joked sarcastically. “Anyway, when do you think we’ll be going? I can only stand being near so many of these idiots at once.” “Soon,” Hiccup promised. “We have to get all of the boats ready. And try to get everyone orderly.” "Good. I should start planning. No one's wanted to join my tribe yet, but maybe that's a good thing since I have no idea where in the world I'll put it." Fishlegs sighed. "You can always come with us until you're ready," Hiccup offered. "There will always be a place for you with the Hairy Hooligans." "Thanks," Fishlegs replied gratefully, walking off. A small, wrinkled, brown dragon flew over with shaky wings. He was the Wodensfang, the riding dragon of Hiccup the First. Like the other Hiccup's dragons, he was a Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus, albeit a very old one. "Ah, Hiccup. I believe you should start sending the tribes home. Your people are getting restless, and Luna departed with the dragons hours ago," the Wodensfang said. Hiccup sighed. "Yeah, I know. But it would take a miracle for me to get all of these guys organized." He motioned to the crowd, where people were already yelling at each other. Dragonfights broke out constantly, and then their owners fought too. Camicazi seemed to be sneaking away with stolen swords, daggers, helmets, and even a pair of pants. The Wodensfang looked on with a tired expression. "I see what you mean." "Wish me luck," Hiccup muttered, grabbing the foghorn Barbara the Barbarian had given him. He walked over to the large rock next to Grimbeard's throne, stood on top of it, then blew the foghorn with all his might. The sound echoed across the Island of Tomorrow, and slowly, the yelling turned to chatter, and the chatter turned to silence. Well, silence apart from a familiar, unhinged voice yelling "SHUT UP! How DARE you insult ME, the great NOr..." The man trailed off as he suddenly realizing that everyone else had stopped talking. The sound of him clearing his throat echoed uncomfortably loudly. "People of the Archipelago! As you know, we've been repairing our ships and preparing for departure for the last few days," Hiccup began. "We've celebrated our newfound peace and worked together in struggle. Now, it's time for us to part ways and rebuild our world!" The assorted Vikings murmured amongst themselves and then let out a mighty yell, each shouting their tribe's cheer. Thankfully, the chieftains of each tribe took the job from there and led their people. The crowds slowly began to disperse as a steady swarm of ships exited Tomorrow. Hiccup stepped off of the rock, looking exhausted. His few friends and remaining family gathered around him, their faces not showing respect, but care. It was refreshing. They shared a moment together, the crowds almost gone and the island growing quieter. Stoick and Valhallarama looked fondly at their son with a proud twinkle in their eyes. Fishlegs smiled happily and Camicazi smirked, with Stormfly on her shoulders and stolen goods in her hands. The Deadly Shadow towered protectively over the small group and the Windwalker purred appreciatively. Even Horrowcow mooed comfortingly. It was a perfect, happy scen- "C-can we go n-now? I'm t-t-tired of this place. It's so b-b-boring. There's n-nothing to e-e-e-eat." "'Toothless, ''manners!"'''__FORCETOC__ Category:Crossovers Category:Fan-Fiction stories